


Gods and Monsters

by LadyHallen



Category: Frozen (2013), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mention's of OC's, at all, it's not successful, this is my attempt of worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:43:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7145138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHallen/pseuds/LadyHallen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa had dreams of her ancestress, Elsa I and the god Loki.</p><p>
  <i>The excerpt said, "She was defeated by the god and brought back spring."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Strange context that, defeated.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gods and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Snow Queen and the Ice Demon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1214212) by [Lizardbeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth). 



Elsa’s first clear memory was of a woman.

It wasn’t her mother, with her warm brown eyes and dark hair. It wasn’t of her nannies, with their bright, colorful hair of crimson and sunshine.

It was of a painting.

A woman, not smiling but exuding amusement. Her hair, white as snow. Skin, as pale as ivory. And eyes bluer and brighter than the winter sky. Even seated and inanimate, she seemed to encompass the entire room.

Elsa did not know it until she was three years old, but the woman was Elsa I, her many times grandmother.

.

Elsa’s childhood consisted of stories.

Of the old gods that dwelled in another realm; of Heimdall the watcher, guard of the Bifrost; of Odin the One-eyed, All seeing and All knowing; of Loki the Trickster, patron god of Arendelle.

There were many gods, but the most important was Loki, the patron.

It was said that he was benevolent and kind, but some stories said him to be cruel and wrathful.

Elsa did not think it was very fair of him to be both but she knew he was. He was a god.

.

When Elsa’s hair turned white in her sleep, Alfrid screamed.

Marta, the old maid, laughed.

“God blessed,” the old crone said gleefully. “What a wonderful gift, your majesty.”

Elsa did not understand the look on her father’s face until she was older, but she eventually realized it was _fear_.

She did not understand why, until the frost fell from her fingertips and she wept shards of ice.

.

Mother tried to convince her that it was not all bad, but it was hard in the face of her father’s stillness.

“He was raised of the old stories,” Mother said, voice soft. There was a fire roaring in the room, despite it being the middle of summer. Any room that Elsa entered must always have a fire. Father decreed it to be so.

“Old stories?” Elsa asked.

Mother did that “hmm” that she did when she was thinking like a queen, like a diplomat.

“Before there were the gods, there was the Snow Queen. She gave Arendelle eternal winter and while she was benevolent and kind, she was ruthless to those who went against her.” Mother said in a sing-song voice. It was a sad, daunting song.

“Before there were gods?” Elsa asked. “Was there ever such a time?”

“Oh, my love. The gods are powerful, but they are not eternal,” Mother chided. The matter clarified, Elsa nodded and snuggled in for a long story. She had almost forgotten how wonderful hugs felt.

.

_Before there were gods, there was the Snow Queen._

_She gave Arendelle eternal winter._

_She was kind and benevolent. She was ruthless and angry._

_Elsa did not think it to be fair that a mortal could be both as well. She had not been a goddess._

.

When Anna was born, Elsa found sunlight again.

She was small, incapable of protecting herself, but she gave her love so freely. It bewildered her as much as it made her laugh.

“Eltha!” Anna would lisp. “Eltha, make pretty pwease.”

‘Pretty’ being snowflakes that Elsa had just discovered she could do by accident.

It was impossible to be afraid in the face of Anna’s joy; boundless, immeasurable joy in the face of her gift.

“It is pretty, isn’t it?” Elsa murmured.

.

_“More Elsa! More!”_

_“Anna, wait!”_

.

_‘It was an accident.’ She thought._

_“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered._

_“I did not mean to,” she said out loud._

_Nobody listened. The streak of white in Anna’s hair was the most damning evidence in the world and Elsa was guilty._

_Her judge, jury and executioner was her father and he decreed her a lifetime of isolation._

.

Elsa endured the loneliness the same way she dealt with the decreasing number of hugs from her mother, or smiles from her father. Badly.

She knew she was supposed to be immune from the cold, but a coldness of the heart was something nothing could warm.

_(She longed for her Sunlight, but she would hurt her so she had to keep the door locked.)_

The frost dripped from her fingers constantly, almost as much as it had when she had first discovered she would no longer get warm.

And that was when she started dreaming of the frost.

.

There was a man in her dreams who wielded an ice spear.

He moved, gesturing. Teaching. Elsa immortalized the movements in her mind and hesitantly tried it out when she woke. She did so more frequently and with significantly lesser hesitation when she succeeded.

In the silence of her room, she learned how to craft ice from the air, how to produce bolts that flew with enough force to weld itself to the ground and how to make it last.

.

Alfrid, the only maid who stayed, did not say anything about the holes on the floor. She did not say anything about the destroyed tapestries.

Alfrid brought her sweet plums when she felt like she was drowning in the emptiness and sang when the silence became too much.

“What are the people saying,” Elsa asked one day, voice hoarse from disuse.

“My lady?” Alfrid queried.

“About the closed gates. What are the people saying?” she repeated.

The red-haired maid did not change her expression, but one cannot have only one companion for two years without learning something.

“Don’t lie to me,” Elsa whispered. And as an afterthought, “Please.”

The maid’s eyes went wide. “Princess, do not beg,” Alfrid pleaded. After a moment, she added, “The people are saying that one of your royal highnesses took ill. It is a quarantine to keep the people safe.”

It was clearly a royal excuse. She had spent enough time under her mother’s table learning about diplomacy to understand that gossip was being spread deliberately.

Elsa wanted to laugh.

She settled for crying, in the end.

.

The man in her dreams taught her to sculpt ice and keep it forever.

He taught her to use her frost in a battle and win.

Elsa did not notice.

He wasn’t really a dream.

Elsa did not notice that either.

.

“It’s snowing, Elsa!” a gleeful voice yelled through the door.

Only Alfrid saw her flinch.

“Go away, Anna!” she yelled back.

She felt the frost gathering in her hands and plunged it in her hair. Immediately, it stopped.

_(She had noticed, early on, that her frost did not harm her. Sometimes, she wished it did.)_

“Oh, my lady,” Alfrid sighed. “I will take her away from the door.”

Elsa felt cold relief coil in her belly.

.

“Do you think the gods thought their gift out before they gave it?” she once asked Alfrid in a moment of weakness.

The maid paused in mopping up the floor of the frost that always existed in her rooms.

“Think of the stories, my lady. They are kind. They are cruel. Their gifts can be both,” the maid answered practically.

Elsa did not think it was fair, for her gift to be both. She was only mortal and it wasn’t a burden a human could bear.

.

_The first time the man in her dreams spoke, Elsa woke with a gasp._

_“Grandchild,” he had said. “You are learning well.”_

.

“I need records in the library,” Elsa said to Alfrid the moment the maid entered with the usual mop and bucket. “Of the Snow Queen, Elsa I.”

Alfrid paused and arched an eyebrow. “Alright, but this is rather abrupt, your highness.”

Elsa did not answer. She could not get his words out of her mind.

Was it not a dream then? She had not casted her winter berries, or sang a hymn to the gods in a while. It was difficult to be devout in the face of such coldness.

Had she invited something worse in her mind with her callous disregard of the god’s sacrifice?

“Braid your hair, your highness and I will keep everyone else away while I escort you to the library,” Alfrid said briskly.

_Keep everyone else away._

The phrase made Elsa want to flinch, but she was so used to the idea already that it felt normal. No, not normal.

Numb.

.

_Elsa I, who plunged Arendelle into thirty years of winter, was defeated by Loki of Asgard in battle. The Queen was defeated and removed winter after thorough negotiation._

_Elsa I ruled for ten more years before her daughter succeeded her._

_Arilda IV bore no hint of the strange powers that manifested in her mother._

.

The word used was strange. ‘Defeated’.

Elsa knew she was missing something in the context. Something in between the statement was missing.

But among all the books collected in the library, there was nothing else about the Snow Queen.

Elsa resigned herself to her ignorance.

.

Elsa’s tutors in her studies continued teaching her of the old gods.

It was her art tutor that gave her the key when he handed her a book of the portraits of the gods.

Loki was there and for the first time, Elsa forgot the cold and the loneliness.

Staring back at her from the ivory pages was the familiar face of the man in her dreams.

Sharp cheekbones, a wicked arch of eyebrows and a mobile mouth made for smiling. Eyes, greener than anything she had ever seen.

Inanimate and not even holding anything remotely threatening, Elsa could verily believe the danger from him.

How the Snow Queen must have felt, meeting him in person.

For the first time, she felt immense sympathy for the queen.

.

“You finally know who I am,” he said when she sleeps and he enters her dreams.

Elsa does not quiver. She has mostly forgotten how not to be afraid. She has been so afraid that if she loses it, she will likely be _terrified_.

“You are Loki,” she said and she he turned more solid, more real. Names truly have power. “You are Loki of Asgard.”

He smiled, teeth gleaming and eyes sparkling darkly. “Grandchild, you have such audacity to name me. Has no one taught you that?”

Elsa shakes her head. What had she done?

“Very well,” he sighed. “We will start at the beginning.”

Elsa has a million questions fighting to pour out of her mouth, but she corralled them behind her teeth and swallowed it down. Her dreams were the only place where she could be free. Asking questions might drive him away and she did not want that.

So she listened, kept quiet and never asked.

.

_When she received news that her parents were dead, Elsa allowed herself a brief moment of mourning for her mother._

_After a few weeks, she packed her bags and left._

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also available at [tumblr](http://ladyhallen.tumblr.com) for any worldbuilding questions and prompts.


End file.
